Remember the Titans
by Jeyman113
Summary: Demigods; the children who are "fortunate" enough to be born of the Olympians. There have been many accounts written of their adventures. It seems that the entire world is enamored with their existence. Though no one thinks of the other children. The Demigods who aren't born of the Olympians, but are born of the ones they conquered; the Titans.


It's a lonely walk to the Apollo Theater.

The sky is expressionless, without a single star peaking from behind heavy clouds. The air is frozen, as it should be when the the wind chill drops below zero. Long gone branches stick out from their trees on the sidewalk. They sway back and forth in the wall of wind, constantly struggling to grab ahold onto the hair ofany unfortunate soul walking along the cracked sidewalk.

A policeman lies back in his car down the street from the theater, his arms swung across his chest. He wears four layers of clothes, though the heat in his car is turned up on maximum. This policeman is never warm; his body continually shakes from the chills running up and down his spine. His eyelids are squeezed shut, his lips are frozen together, and his gloved fingers have long ago given into frost bite.

Once upon a time this man was much more than skin and bone. But that was only once upon a time. Now his frail, colorless skin almost seems to stick to his skeleton. This man wants to eat; he desires more than anything to inhale a box of cream filled donuts from that bakery down the street from his apartment. But that fantasy vanished when he realized that all the nerves on his toungue had frozen. If his tears hadn't have become icicles while they were still in his eyes; he would've literally cried a river.

The only part of him that doesn't seem to be frozen is his mind. It wanders to many places. To six years ago, when he first laid eyes on his beautiful ex-wife. The time he finally decided to take a risk and ask to her to a show at the luxurious Apollo. The day his son was born. When he first joined the police force; back when all those crazy disasters started occurring around Manhattan. He remembers the last time he stepped into that theater across the street, and even more chills decide to race across his nervous system.

_That man,_ he thinks through clenched teeth.

Then his jaw starts to crack and he's forced to stop.

A girl strides across the sidewalk down the street from the Apollo Theater. She's tall and has a thin frame, with striking red hair that bounces behind he in the crisp breeze. Her thick rimmed glasses hang low on her nose, almost ready to fall down onto the black scarf that covers her mouth. Her body is mostly covered by a thick, black coat that falls to her ankles. She keeps her hands jammed into the pocket of her coat as she walks toward the theater. Though they're tensed and ready at any moment to whip out, a blade clenched between her fingers, and defend her.

She wonders if the cop sitting in that police car across the street would actually help her if she needed assistance. She has learned of plenty "dirty uniforms" while she's lived in this part of the city.

The policeman's eyes shoot open as he senses the girl's presence. He sees her walking up the street toward the Apollo. His eyes go wide, and he strains to grab at the wheel and sit up. He has to stop that girl. She can't go into that theater. She just can't.

_No, _he thinks. _No. Turn back. Please, girl. Turn around and go home._

But the girl obviously can't see his futile efforts to get out of the car. She doesn't realize the danger she's putting herself in by going in that theater, where that man sits patiently waiting for her. Or maybe she does realize the danger; maybe she's not completely ignorant of the situation.

Because she's been down this street many times at this hour of the night, and heading to this theater. She just so happens to be recently aquainted with the strange character waiting for her through those doors. Many times she's sat and listened to that man's bitter ramblings. He talks of death; that mans sitting in side that theater He talks of destruction. He talks of complete and total anihilation.

He talks of revenge.

The girls stops and looks up at the sign of the theater. Her mouth twists into a smirk as she stares at the letters. A-P-O-L-L-O.

_How ironic_, she thinks as she opens the theater door, leaving the policeman gaping in frozen horror.


End file.
